


For Mutual Pleasure

by Shadaras



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, F/M, Force Bondage, Force Lightning as Mild Electrostimulation, Having Sex Means Never Needing to Talk About Your Feelings, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Nipple Play, Simultaneous Orgasm, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:00:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26636251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadaras/pseuds/Shadaras
Summary: They don't talk about the arrangement, because that would be too close to admitting they cared, but Asajj and Obi-Wan both know it's never a coincidence when they pop up unannounced on non-combat missions. There might be caution, clarifying of intent, but it's always for one purpose alone: Sex, and the pursuit of mutual pleasure.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Asajj Ventress
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43
Collections: Yes Fest 2020





	For Mutual Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inquisitor_tohru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitor_tohru/gifts).



“It is, of course, a coincidence that we’re both here.” Obi-Wan said it blandly, but the crinkle at the corner of his eyes laid to rest any questions Asajj had about how _coincidental_ this really was. “Really, Ventress, the galaxy is so large; how _is_ it that we keep running into each other?”

Asajj stared at him in exasperation for exactly one more second, then snorted and opened the door to her rented room. She stomped in, knowing he’d follow, and activated the gray noise machine she kept around to baffle spyware and listening devices of all sorts. “You’re part of the Jedi Council, Kenobi; don’t you have an alert set up for my name?”

His laughter rang through the Force, vivid and fond as a cat curling around her. “As if you don’t track every movement of my regiment yourself.”

“Neither of us are here officially.” It was a guess on her part, but an educated one; Ventress couldn’t remember the last time Obi-Wan had showed up for _official_ business, or she had crashed into his own carefully laid plans for reasons beyond entertainment.

Obi-Wan sighed. “This is a detour.”

She spun, reached out to test the truth of his words. _Detour_ was still closer than other rendezvous had been; they often made up excuses to get sent near enough to take a night—or a whole day, when they could—to themselves. Asajj watched his face close down at the touch of her mind to his, but he didn’t try and hide it from her; she didn’t want to fuck up his missions any more than he wanted to fuck hers up, so long as they weren’t there for the same goal.

Unfortunately, Asajj saw the briefest glimpse of the mission he was delaying himself on and winced. There was no way to hide that from Obi-Wan; if she could sense him, so could he sense her. His own aura in the Force strengthened, no longer a gentle housecat but a lion ready to move at the next hint of danger. “Asajj,” he said, voice quiet and something sad in his eyes where he leaned against the plain (but clean) wall. “We don’t need to do this.”

“Neither of us are here,” she agreed, withdrawing in the Force. Now, free of the too-intimate sense of his own emotions, she eyed him frankly. Asajj had never wanted to like Obi-Wan, but Obi-Wan had persisted in liking _her_ until she reluctantly started feeling affection back.

He’d brought her around mostly through flirting until Asajj had finally given in and fucked him. She’d been tired, and frustrated, and hurt; and he’d been there and gentle and willing. Asajj had woken up the next morning angry that she’d had sex with a Jedi, and even angrier that the sex had been so _good_ , but before she’d been able to leave Obi-Wan had woken up too and invited her to go another round.

It had, unsurprisingly, become a _thing_ after that.

So right now, Obi-Wan was in front of her and they were both chasing after an old holocron (her contact was going to meet her two cities over in a few days, if Obi-Wan didn’t catch them first), and Asajj didn’t want to know how Obi-Wan had found not just where she was but the exact room she was renting. The last one was the Force, but the rest was just his insufferably good information network and analytic efforts.

Asajj looked at him, as easy in this rundown hotel room as he was on the command bridge of a starship or the lonely wilds where they’d once fucked beneath the stars, and considered her options. She could send him away, and forget this ever happened. They could fight, and nobody would win. Or she could delay him, which would likely aid her contact. She smiled, and saw Obi-Wan shift almost imperceptibly at the change in her posture from taut and wary to the predatory slink they both knew was a prelude to something far more intimately physical.

If he wasn’t open to being delayed, he wouldn’t be here to begin with, after all.

“Kenobi,” she said, very deliberately, “how long a… _detour_ were you intending?”

Obi-Wan smiled and gave her a contemplative and thorough once-over. “How long do _you_ have, Ventress?”

Asajj stalked forward, one arm extending to shove Obi-Wan and his smug smile against the wall with the Force. She stretched out his limbs, achingly aware that he wasn’t fighting her on this; they were well-matched in the Force, and if Obi-Wan struggled then that metaphysical wrestling match became their focus. Asajj set aside questions of why Obi-Wan was letting her pin him to the wall for now, and traced her fingers along his bearded chin. “What you’re saying,” she purred, “is that you’re mine until I let you go.”

Obi-Wan pressed against her Force bonds, eyes half-lidded. “Ventress,” he said, voice already deepening, “have I ever agreed to that claim?”

“There’s always a first time.” Asajj dragged her hands down Obi-Wan’s chest, feeling the way he shuddered even though the thick layers of his almost-undercover clothing. They might not be Jedi robes, but Obi-Wan still chose similarly-cut clothes in dull browns and soft creams, and layered himself to hold back the chill of space. While he ran cooler than she did, Asajj didn’t think the difference was so great; from the smirk he wore, Obi-Wan picked layed clothing in large part to infuriate her.

Asajj hissed, pushing in to latch her teeth into the strong tendons of his neck. Obi-Wan groaned, back arching, as Asajj bit bruises into his throat and moved her hands down to unfasten his belt. Even if she _did_ find it infuriating that Obi-Wan began with so many layers, it meant she got to unwrap him, drawing out the process of trying to take him apart.

“You do love leaving bruises I can’t explain,” Obi-Wan gasped as she moved back from his throat enough to draw apart the outermost layers of his clothes.

“You Jedi have those healing trances; you’ve plenty of time to use them.” Asajj tugged on Obi-Wan’s inner layers; a thin sweater over a plain shirt. “Is tearing your clothes too difficult?”

Obi-Wan swallowed, and Asajj watched the dark bruise she’d left pulse with the motion. “No,” he said, and the Force thrummed with his desire. “It is not.”

“Good,” Asajj murmured. Then, despite her question, she didn’t rip them; it wasn’t yet time for that. Instead, she drew Obi-Wan up with the Force clamped around his wrists, stretching him until he stood on his toes and the barest inch of skin was bared between his shirt and his trousers.

Asajj slid her hand into that gap, nails first, enjoying the taut muscles and the mild roughness of his hair just as much as the way he flinched when she dug her nails into his flesh. She moved up, first, rucking his clothes up under his armpits and coaxing the cloth into staying put with subtle application of the Force. She loved this part, the way Obi-Wan’s muscles moved under her touch and the repressed groans and sighs she pulled from him.

She pinched his nipples and watched his face move from shock to pain and—as Asajj pulled on them—pleasure.

Asajj let go, and Obi-Wan _finally_ whimpered, the sweetest sound she could draw from him. Another frustrated groan as she swiped sharp fingernails down his chest and to the hollows of his hips, stopping at the top of his trousers despite the tempting weight still hidden a few inches lower. Asajj smiled at Obi-Wan, holding his glazed eyes as she slid one hand under his trousers to grab his hip and push him against the wall with her physical strength alone.

Her other hand danced along the line of hair directing her gaze from his belly-button down towards his crotch, not touching his skin and just barely dipping under his clothes.

Asajj’s own nipples were hard, her cunt hot, and if she weren’t playing a game with herself about how long it would take Obi-Wan to break and _beg_ her for relief from this teasing, she would be moving far more quickly. But he had come to her, and he had asked, however, obliquely, and she would reward him by making him ask at least one more time before giving him what they both knew he wanted: Her body on his cock.

Obi-Wan shifted, trying to move into her teasing touch, but she held him back. He scowled at her, color still high and eyes still over-bright, and snapped, “Is this about sex or torture?

“Which do you want?” Asajj asked, moving herself another few inches closer, until the curve of her breasts brushed frustratingly lightly against his pecs and she knew his cock—if freed—could potentially touch her.

Obi-Wan groaned and shoved towards her, this time with the Force aiding his motion. His hands stayed put—Asajj made sure of that—but his hips were hot and hard against her, and Asajj automatically slid her hand around to the small of his back, keeping him close as she pushed him back against the wall.

“Fuck,” Obi-Wan said, rolling his hips against her. “Just— _fuck_.”

“Gladly,” Asajj said, breathless herself. The Force made quick work of any remaining fastenings on his trousers, and Asajj shoved them down with the Force in the same moment Asajj stepped back and ripped Obi-Wan’s sweater and shirt down the center, leaving them to hang and frame his beautiful torso. His trousers were tight around his ankles, ruining the image a little, and Asajj begrudgingly released his feet for just long enough that Obi-Wan could pull his feet free (he lifted them both up at the same time, trusting to Asajj’s grip on his wrists to hold his entire weight for that moment, and used the Force to toss his trousers aside).

“Go on,” Obi-Wan said, nodding down at his cock. He grinned at her, obviously more composed now that he was mostly-nude. “You know you want it.”

Asajj scowled at him, because it was true, and stepped back. “Undress me,” she commanded, spreading her arms to ease his path. She wore tight leggings underneath a sleeveless tunic; nothing complex, but not simple for someone to ease off her body even in normal circumstances. Right now, with Obi-Wan still pinned to the wall, it would be impossible for an ordinary person to do as she asked.

Fortunately, Obi-Wan had never been _ordinary_.

He smiled at her, eyes losing their focus as his attention drifted from his body to hers. Asajj felt his touch in the Force, gentle caresses that teased her with their swirls up her legs and along her spine. Obi-Wan could be so delicate, when he chose; the control required to manifest the Force not just as a hammer or a wall but a scalpel wasn’t something most Force-users had.

This, where Obi-Wan was delicately undoing the laces keeping her tunic tight to her body while also casually sliding immaterial fingers around to stroke her breasts and trace the curves of her hips—Asajj allowed herself to smile, knowing that Obi-Wan could feel her pleasure and arousal. “Is that the best you can do?” she asked, voice steady from practice.

He laughed, a rich sound that Asajj found eternally frustrating. It resonated in her ears, warmed her heart, and she had no right to find a rival’s amusement and joy so delightful. “My dear,” Obi-Wan said, affectionate words delightful contrast to the sharp pinch of the Force across her nipples, “forgive me for following the letter of your words instead of the spirit.”

Before Asajj could gather her breath to respond, Obi-Wan raised the tunic off her body and pulled her leggings and undergarments down. He floated her just enough in the air to remove them—and her shoes—entirely. At the same time, pressure lay heavy on the nape of her neck and tauntingly light on her cunt, and the pinch on her nipples hadn’t let up. Asajj snarled at Obi-Wan, giving up on words, and grabbed at his hair with the Force, tilting his head back and driving a deep groan out of his chest.

Neither of them touched each other with their hands. Sometimes they did; sometimes the Force was set aside and they fucked like the common people they could never be. Other times, the Force reached out alongside their hands, forming a feedback loop so intense they sometimes forgot their own bodies in ecstacy.

Right now, the Force was their tool, and the goal was to be the first one to break the other’s control.

Obi-Wan fucked her, merciless as she stood unsupported in the middle of the room, pride preventing her from leaning on a wall or chair even as her legs spread and knees quivered. Asajj retaliated by dropping him and shoving him onto his knees, lacing his wrists and ankles together behind him with the Force. Then she cast lightning from her hands; it danced across Obi-Wan’s skin, harsh enough to sting but nowhere near as painful as the torture she knew he’d sometimes been through.

They’d talked about it, the first time she’d let lightning spark from her fingers. He’d flinched, and she’d felt his fear, and then he’d met her eyes and said, “Don’t hurt me with that.”

Asajj had brought the lightning back to her own skin, where it buzzed fondly through her bones, and asked, “What if it only stung?”

He’d thought about that, beautiful and naked and arousal faded from the fear, and then smiled slowly. “Helping your enemy learn to overcome torture, Ventress?” he’d teased, reaching up to take her lightning-wreathed hand in his own. “That’s so kind of you.”

She’d kissed him, then, as the lightning rushed to new ground, and his heart had raced with adrenaline and arousal together. In the encounters they’d had since then, he’d come to like the lightning on its own, and today was no exception: At its spark against his skin, Obi-Wan’s eyes turned wide and beautiful to hers, and his presence in her cunt faded.

Asajj stepped forward, missing his touch even as she thrilled to his concession. “I’m sorry,” she said, knowing he’d hear how false the words were. “Was that cheating?”

“No,” he breathed, voice jagged and harsh. “There is no such thing.”

She grabbed his hair, and the lightning kissed her as he keened, shivering towards her thighs. “I want your mouth,” she said, stroking his cheek with her free hand. “Perhaps you’ll win back something approaching control.”

He blinked slowly at her, soft and fond as she arranged herself. Asajj didn’t meet his eyes; it would be too revealing, if he saw anything other than her desire for his clever tongue and the heady power of holding one of the most revered Jedi Masters of their generation to her cunt.

Obi-Wan lapped at her, and tiny shocks jumped from his tongue to her body. Asajj groaned, the almost-pain simply drawing the pleasure of his tongue against her clit more to the fore. He laughed a little, and she felt the vibrations ripple through her; tiny pulses that he enhanced with the Force even as he bit and sucked at her labia in obvious avoidance of her clit. All she got there was the brush of his nose or beard, perhaps the occasional jolt of her own lightning, and it _was not enough_.

Asajj gripped Obi-Wan’s hair and shoved forward, pinning his head between the wall and her body as she leaned into him. Her nippled brushed the cold wall and she jerked her hips forward, into his mouth, with the ripple of pleasure such an inoffensive touch generated. “You can do better,” she growled, feeling his open mouth and hot breath, sensing the slack in his presence as she took further charge.

“Ventress,” he said, or perhaps it was “Mistress;” muffled as his mouth was by her cunt, the sighed word was almost inaudible.

Then Obi-Wan set about pleasuring her with a vengeance. As his tongue drove into her, the Force rose up to stroke her clit and draw calligraphic lines along her back. Asajj arched into the touch, losing her grasp on the lightning and allowing it to dissipate. The bonds on Obi-Wan’s wrists and ankles slackened too, but he didn’t try to move; he simply reached out with the Force to steady her as she fucked his mouth and his tongue fucked her cunt right back.

Heat rose through her body, and she let Obi-Wan feel it. He moaned, and she felt the pressure building in his own crotch. Blindly—she was resting her forehead against her arm; her arm against the wall—Asajj reached down with the Force and grabbed his cock.

Pain flared through him, bright and shining and inevitable, and Asajj loosened her grip just enough to let it subside into a wash of pleasure. Obi-Wan raised his mouth to her clit, _finally_ , and Asajj echoed the motion of his tongue and lips in the Force, letting him visit it upon his own cock by proxy.

The Force sang between them, and Asajj’s muscles tensed as pleasure built, spreading from her cunt to her belly and threading through her legs until Asajj couldn’t tell if she was standing because she was supporting herself or because the Force wouldn’t let either of them go.

Then Obi-Wan sucked on her clit and flicked its head with his gentle-hot tongue, and Asajj let go.

In a rush, the pleasure exploded through them both. Asajj slid down the wall, and Obi-Wan wrapped himself around her, his mouth (wet, sticky, tasting of _her_ in the most beautiful way) desperately seeking hers, and Asajj gave it to him as their orgasms shook them apart.

Eventually, Asajj realised that she was curled into his arms like a lover, her head resting on his shoulder and his canted against both hers and the wall behind them. She was too tired to be mad, body aching with release, and so instead of complaining she just turned her head further to gently bite his beautiful muscles. 

Obi-Wan chuckled, and she felt it almost more than heard it. “Do you have a bed somewhere?” he asked, voice raw.

“The closer door,” Asajj said, because neither of them were here officially, and she couldn’t bring herself to give up this little slice of pleasure.

Obi-Wan rose, Asajj still in his arms, and carried them both towards the bedroom. Asajj closed her eyes, content for now to let him take the lead; she was sure there would be more pleasure to come, and that was enough for her to know.


End file.
